I have finally published the next adventure in the Spirit Dragon series. Third is written and being edited. This series is dear to my heart for I hope to inspire and encourage karateka with the children's adventure which all ages have come to love. For today, to encourage readers (and maybe reviews) I'm offering the digital format free.

Here is a description. I hope you'll take a peek, and discover the lessons within the adventure. It certainly helped me to grow deeper in my own practice to write it.

Enjoy and thank you for the read (pun intended )

Seized by adventure Brandon becomes a white tiger by night while heading off disaster by day. His darling Marisa is stolen by the too tall and too good looking, Tim. The ensuing clash reaches into his subconscious where the two rivals battle it out in another realm, the tiger and the golden mane war for supremacy.

Just when things couldn't get any worse Brandon is seized and locked up, losing Marisa and the approval of his Sensei in the process. Can kata save him this time? Brandon sure hopes so.

His gaze darted to and fro, anticipating the sweet taste of the slippery meal swimming in the river below. The sparkling claws of the white tiger reflected on the surface, his paw suspended in midair, poised to strike into the sun dappled river. With his mouth salivating his breath came short and quick, yet still he waited. The tiger instinctively knew the time to attack was near.

Half an inch closer and death would sustain life, or at least an empty stomach. Faster than lightning he snatched the unsuspecting fish from the river’s edge. Though the predator was aching with hunger he chose to tease the squirming prey, chasing its tail with his glistening fangs, savoring the cool spray of water from its desperate thrashing.

Impatient, he sunk his teeth into the cold flesh, his meal cherished but ending too soon. He looked back at the flowing rush, anxious to resume the hunt when an unfamiliar scent permeated his nostrils. Turning into the wind the tiger’s nose quivered, scrutinizing the breeze, seeking out the source of invasion.

A shadow passed overhead, blocking the bright glare of the sun just long enough for the tiger to catch sight of the intruder. Crouching low the powerful beast wriggled into position, gripping the soft earth, ready for assault.

Unaware of the danger the fawn rabbit sat up on its haunches, codling its precious find. Turning the walnut over several times it nibbled its meal, curiously watching the blue sky above.*

Brandon screamed at the top of his lungs when the dragon swooped down toward the ground.

“Hang on! Tightly now!” shouted Mr. Crane through the wind. “Face the fear, look it in the eye, and eyes open would work great for that ya know, not all scrunched up tight like that. Find your confidence, feel your balance. Grip her with your knees, Master Brandon!”

Exasperated, Mr. Crane huffed with frustration and tried to remember his own lessons of keeping calm in the face of anger.His pupil frantically clutched at the dragon’s frame, fumbling for somewhere to grip. He knew Mr. Crane was flying close but he couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to see just where he was. He tried to follow the instructions but his legs were starting to cramp they squeezed so hard.

Mr. Crane worried Brandon wouldn't learn to fly his spirit dragon at the rate he was going. He also knew the only way he would ever get over his fear of falling was to do exactly that.

The reason anyone fears anything is mostly due to the mystery surrounding it. Once you do something and you know what is going to happen, it doesn’t seem as scary.

Mr. Crane used an ancient form of communication known as telepathy to tell the dragon what his intentions were, unbeknownst to his student. The dragon understood and shot snout first toward the uneven earth.

Brandon wailed his terror, throwing his arms around the dragon’s rough scaled neck. Mr. Crane signaled the flying beast as she twisted to the right in a corkscrew motion.

In peril, Brandon accelerated straight down, thrown off his steed.

Instinctively the fawn rabbit darted as the pale tiger sprang into the air for attack. In midair the falling Brandon and leaping tiger collided, but instead of bouncing off each other, they merged, the boy vanishing within the tiger.

The world morphed into a mixture of fur and hunger, claws and teeth pulling anxiously, gravity racing to greet him. Breath he couldn’t catch, intuition took control.

Brandon pitched his new bulk around, instinctively sinking nails into soft earth. The ground accepted his claws like rain to a desert dune. He reveled in the feel of his powerful weapons scraping beneath him as if nothing could withstand their strength. Gleefully watching his deadly claws he played with the dirt, tensing, releasing, over and over, slashing the ground into clumps and repetitively flicking it off.

He shook his head when his sensitive ears tickled from unfamiliar breezes, the hairs so acute every movement became immediate and alarming. It was painful to listen to air drift by. It felt funny, moving in an alien pattern. He crooked one ear while the other stayed still and could hear rustling in the forest so far off in the distance he wondered if it was real.

Brandon could see Mr. Crane flying above him clapping his beak, talking to his Spirit Dragon as their shapes got smaller and smaller. They left him!

The musky scent of the scampering rabbit hit his senses like the first candy bar hits the tip of your tongue on Halloween. The metallic scent of the rabbit’s coppery blood caused Brandon’s pulse to accelerate. His black nose quivered, nostril’s flaring to chase after that delectable scent. He resisted the urge to chase after it.

There was more than the frisky hare hitting his senses now. He could smell the damp sand beneath him and knew another animal had marked the territory. The trees surrounding the glade exuded an ancient fragrance, foretelling their wisdom and age.

It physically ached when he surveyed the rabbit jumping away, until it was lost in the foliage. Drool began to pool on his pink tongue with the temptation to feed. He wanted that bunny, though it looked different. It was no more than a dark shape disappearing within the darkness of the forest, however the woods shouldn’t have looked like that.

Staring at everything closely, the colors were all gone. Shadows and light filled his vision but with a clarity he never knew as a human. The trees were sharper and more vivid in their detail and patterns. The ground sparkled with minerals and pebbles he’d not noticed, not even once in all the times he traversed the path meandering before him.

Brandon was comfy warm within his white coat striated with cocoa brown stripes. His consciousness burrowed into the feel of muscle and brute force, exploding an epiphany of energy and will he only ever possessed in his dreams.

He remembered wishing he could be just like the tiger before he met his Spirit Dragon. Now he could feel those muscles like a cloak of rogue power instead of merely feeling them under his palm. He stamped around in circles trying to spy what was brushing up against his thighs. His mental giggle exploded as a roar when he realized he was chasing a tail.

But the hunger wasn’t like wanting mom’s cookies after school. He was near to bursting with famished need. Brandon usually wanted to feed rabbits, not rip them to shreds for their meat.

Anger rumbled deep in his throat at the loss of his meal. Growling, he paced back and forth, still refusing to hunt the furry delicacy. He just couldn’t, despite his intense desire to do that very thing.

Where was his body? Why couldn't he see color? Why did he want to eat that adorable little bunny? Everything was topsy turvy and he worried, desperate to understand what was going on.

Did his dream come true? Was he now a real tiger? Yet the question remained and could not be ignored, how long would he remain a powerful feline predator…?

Brandon violently jerked, fighting with his blanket, gasping for air. He was mildly disappointed to wake, finding himself in his room.He didn’t have the toys of a child scattered around his bedroom like his little brother Jamie did. Once he started karate the organization within his thoughts extended to a neat and tidy room.

His Playstation sat tucked underneath a small television with three gaming videos next to it. It was something he didn’t play much, but it comforted him to see it there.

Wrapped in the shadows of the night he could just make out a large rocking chair in the corner. His mom insisted he keep it there to remind him of her love. He never quite got that one but he didn’t mind the decoration.

Dripping with sweat he sat up in bed, swinging his legs to plant his feet firmly on the floor. He stared at the wooden boards under his soles, breathing heavily.

“It was just a dream,” he whispered to no one.

But he knew his dreams were more than just dreams. In his dreams whatever happened affected his waking world. Whatever happened in his every day life affected his dream - or rather - spirit world, just the same.

Brandon had never had a frightening dream about his spirit world before, which scared him more than just a regular nightmare would. With a nightmare you can wake yourself up and say, it was just a nightmare, a silly dream. This was different. Something happened in his spirit world.

Something had happened to him.

Standing, he meandered to the bedroom window. He was much trimmer at thirteen than he was when he first discovered his spirit world. When he first met his spirit friends, Mr. Crane, the wonderful white tiger, and the old man, whose name he still didn’t know but who just about saved his life back then.

Reaching out from within his dreams they guided an overweight and heavy-hearted little boy to karate. There he met Marisa who is still his best friend to this day, and in the process gained self confidence.

By lightening up his heart and healing the wounds of his aching soul, he was able to save his Spirit Dragon. Bound by the weight of all the fears he refused to face, the many years of self doubt and loathing, Brandon’s Spirit Dragon was near death before he found the tools he needed to help them both.

Staring at the lawn looking velvet with deep shadows, he thought about this third year of karate and learning the fifth kata so he could shoot for his black belt. Still a straight A student Brandon discovered a passion for Japanese folklore. It was a short study subject in his Literature Class, and an even shorter one in his Social Studies Class at school.

Once he got a glimpse into the world of powerful ninja and their swords of great lineage and destiny, it resonated deep in his soul. He yearned to be a master, to breathe powerful chi in through his nose and use it to perfect the ancient Japanese art of the warrior. To breathe in the force all around us and use it in the deadly moves of each kata, to exude that power as a part of him, deep inside. He craved to have their speed, skill, and stealth.

He borrowed many books on the subject from the library, reading everything and anything he could get his hands on. He even discovered movies portraying his beloved characters and their histories.

Wind wafted hard enough through the maple tree to send a whisper across the lawn, while Brandon smiled at how he replaced his Star Wars Episode One poster with one from Ip Man. It's his favorite movie, placed proudly next to the movie poster of Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon.

Yes, he was very different to the ten year old kid he was, the one without any balance or coordination. Brandon could remember practicing his karate for hours before seeing the slightest improvement. He did stick to it though, passing each test to reaching the rank of Ni-kyu, or advanced brown belt.

When he first became a Go-kyu green belt he hit a bit of a speed bump. Sensei referred to it as a trouble spot.

Scudding clouds unveiled the moon, highlighting the silver stillness filling the bird bath outside. At karate he and Marisa were cruising right along, doing their thing, when all of a sudden he absolutely could not get the fourth kata. Seichin completely baffled him.

Most of the time he still couldn’t even remember its name, and he was well into learning the next kata. So that took some extra study before he could advance to his current rank. Yet he still found frustration in his inability to learn true control. His thoughts really threw him off balance and that was a key component.

He lost a considerable amount of weight but now needed to develop muscle. Losing weight doesn’t just leave you with the muscle underneath, you have to work at it. Realistically he needed to work on buffing up.

Lifting his arm he made his bicep flex, wishing it was as strong and effortless as the dream tiger's. It made him want to train harder, to reach deep and become a living warrior with a Ninja's instinct and the assassin's ease of a Samurai. To become the human equivalent of the dream tiger.

Not that he was a big fan of weight training, or anything that caused pain for that matter, but he kept his determination resolute, keeping at it, doing his very best.

He surveyed the night sky as if he might find the answers hidden within a moonbeam, or the twinkling of a star.

His thoughts turned to Marisa. They'd been close friends for awhile. She helped him when no one else would even talk to him, let alone lend a helping hand, or an ear for that matter.

Crossing his arms he leaned against the wall, his face so close to the window pane that his breath left a misted impression. His finger squeaked against the glass when he spelled out MARISA in the condensation. Breathing over it again, he could almost spell Uechi-Ryu before he ran out of room.

Sighing, he turned back, padding across his room to his rumpled bed. Snuggling back under the covers now that his heart rate was back to normal, he fervently hoped he wouldn’t dream.

Saturday morning had dawned crisp and clear, energizing him with its vibrance, firing him up for karate class. He'd woken easily, without any disturbing images floating behind his scratchy eyelids.

Pumped for his training, he breezed energetically into the dojo club, quickly changed into his gi, and went to find Marisa so they could warm up together. Glancing into the dojo he spied her. Seeing him she beckoned him over with an enthusiastic wave. Bowing in respect before entering, he soaked in the familiar safety of the ancestors whose mighty moves sensei taught, embodied by the clutter free training floor, before heading over to join her.

The deep green of her eyes mesmerized him, like the flame of a campfire hypnotizing focus. Brandon couldn’t even believe he was thinking these things, much less feeling them. What would it do to their friendship?

He wondered if she observed the changes in him? If she has, have they altered her perception of him too?

“Hi Bran,” she said happily. Brandon couldn’t help but smile back at her. “Wanna help me stretch out against the wall?” she asked.The sunlight filtering into the dojo was caressing her long brown hair, giving her a golden halo. Blinking at her beauty, he looked into her calm green eyes. They were so tranquil he could stare into them and just float away.

Snapping out of his appreciation of Marisa he gave a wry grin, groaning at the suggestion of working his ligaments so they allowed for higher kicks and better flexibility.

Softly laughing at him, he knew she was thinking of how if performed correctly the exercise could be quite painful. It created the improved stretch.

Do you ever look at me and think the things I think about you?

Hiding his newfound attraction for his oldest friend, he teased, “No problem! Ya gonna make me do it though?”

Marisa rolled her eyes. “Yer such a baby! It’s not that bad. You just need to re-lax.” Patting his shoulder with encouragement, she guided him to the wall. “C’mon, I’ll go first, maybe it’ll make you feel better to see me straining.”

Brandon followed his incorrigible friend over to the side.

Sitting down, she pushed her back against the wall, spreading her legs so that Brandon could put his feet adjacent to her knees. He pushed gently until Marisa grimaced, stretching out the inner tendons of her thighs.

He jumped up to take his spot as Sensei Ralstin began class, leaving Marisa to ease her legs back on her own. “Lucky duck,” she whispered.

After the customary bow, Sensei’s thunderous voice announced their fate. “Good morning class! Let’s begin the day with stretching! Find a partner and a spot along the wall of agony.”

Brandon caught the wink Sensei delivered Marisa as the class moaned in unison. Marisa taunted Brandon, pointing her finger in his direction. Thus the class began with gruesome payback, Marisa smiling with her victory.

They spent several minutes warming and loosening their muscles with specific maneuvers. Brandon concentrated on his breathing as he bent and reached with tense concentration.

Focusing on each particular muscle he inhaled deeply through his nose. Exhaling, he slowly reached just a little bit further. He tried to do this at least three times every stretch, feeling the burn deeper each time.

He knew the benefits of pushing himself in class this way. Brandon found he could run for longer, avoiding the pinching side cramp altogether. He could get through the beginning and secondary exercises without losing his breath, though he still broke a decent sweat.

Brandon figured that in keeping his stretch nice and supple, it helped the speed of his kicks and punches. Keeping his muscles stretched out was like breaking in a new pair of sneakers. When he first started classes he often went home feeling sore and spent, plopping himself down in front of the television without moving for at least an hour. Now he honestly enjoyed all the stretching, the same way you favor wearing those shoes you worked so hard to break in.

Finishing their warm ups the students formed a single line across the back of the dojo. Sensei Ralstin decided they needed to get back to the basics by concentrating on the Sanchin Kata.

Sanchin was the very first kata and one of the three that were brought to Okinawa from China, by Kanbum Uechi.

Kanbum went to China to study Pangai Noon, a Chinese fighting system which later became the 'abc’s' of Uechi-Ryu. Kanbum returned to Okinawa with five specific things to teach his students. Sanchin, which means three conflicts, or three steps, was one of the five things, and subsequently, the first kata.

These steps are done several times in a row, almost like laps you might run in gym class, but can be excruciating at first.Sensei ordered the class to stand in their best Sanchin Stance. He then proceeded to go from each person, testing the control of their balance by pushing against them in certain places.

Brandon practiced a lot to master his ability to withstand these 'checks'. He only moved a little bit as Sensei pushed. Brandon discovered that if he imagined his spine to be a great big metal pole that kept going right down into the floor beneath him, then he was able to keep his back straighter, which helped to keep him steady and balanced.

The difficult part was keeping hips tucked in under that straight spine at the same time, which was just as important as the perfect spine alignment.

The key to maintaining that balance and steadiness throughout the kata was endurance enhanced with quite a bit of determination to do so. By the time Sensei had checked each of his students they had been standing in Sanchin for nearly five minutes. An excellent practice to gain that endurance.

Brandon’s arms were already feeling as if he were holding ten pound barbells by his fingertips, and now he had to do the kata, not just stand there.

Sensei Ralstin had them walk in Sanchin stance up and down the length of the dojo, practicing their steps and strikes. After completing the first round of laps Sensei directed them to complete the wa-uke strikes and Sanchin turns, finishing the kata.Brandon sighed heavily as he glanced at the clock. Just a couple of minutes left and then his weekend would begin.

Maybe he would invite Marisa to a movie. Brandon ran down the list of movies he could suggest as Sensei Ralstin closed the class for the day. Lifting his hands above his head Brandon clapped twice, in unison with the rest of the class.

“Go’ curisama,” said Sensei loudly.

“Areegotto Gozamis,” the class answered, thanking Sensei for teaching them in Japanese.

Brandon cruised to the front of the class to shake hands with Sensei when he heard the bells over the door chime announcing someone had entered. Several students turned hoping to see their mom or dad ready to pick them up, only to be surprised by a new face starring back at them.

He had an air of confidence about him that immediately struck Brandon in the completely wrong way. He disliked the stranger immediately.

The only people he had ever known with that kind of security in a new situation, tended to think a little too much of themselves. They were just so cool they should be viewed as an authority figure on whatever you were talking about.

“Who is that?” Marisa murmured under her breath.

There was something about the tone in which she whispered the question that made Brandon’s stomach pinch into a knot. “Hey Bran? Have you ever seen that guy before?” she asked, poking his rib with her elbow. She put so much emphasis on the word that it was clear her interest was more than piqued with the jerk. Yeah, Brandon was gonna love this guy.

“Nope,” he answered, trying to sound less impressed than he was by the boy’s stature. The dude had to be a good six feet tall, even though he couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen.

He sported one of those perpetual tans that girls coyly referred to as a milk chocolate complexion. The way the female students migrated to the newcomer, including Marisa, caused him to feel less than adequate, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. This did not improve the new guy’s chances with him, not by a long shot.

Peter walked over to Brandon and whispered, “Get a load of this guy. Mr. Iron Man himself.” Brandon had been thinking the same thing. “Ya think that’s natural or do you think he got help getting muscles that big?”

The two friends watched as the boy introduced himself to Sensei and his new entourage of groupies as Tim Braddock, who was obviously enjoying all the attention he was getting.

“What’s wrong with guys like that? I was just kidding around about how muscular he is.”

Brandon had a hard time answering Peter’s question since he really had no reason to feel the things he was feeling. It wasn’t like Tim had done anything to him. He just walked into a karate school looking for lessons.

“I don’t know, just a bad feeling I guess. I’m gonna go change.” Brandon left the dojo after changing, without saying goodbye to anyone.

Slumping down onto his bed Brandon inhaled a deep breath of familiar warmth and comfort, exhaling the air through his lips, blowing it up to the ceiling.

He rolled to his side, propping onto his elbow to stare outside at the blue sky. Puffy clouds drifted across the distance like the gentle waves of a lake. Watching the ripples of foam float across the sky drew him into the haven of sleep. Escaping his stress, he relaxed into the dream.

He felt strange, bulky, and too warm. As Brandon opened his eyes he remembered all too quickly. He dug his fingers into the ground, claws sinking deep within the earth when he pulled his hulk up, shaking off the clinging dirt.

Seeing with his feline eyes was hard to get used to at first. The crystal blues of the tiger saw the world differently than his own human ones did. Everything had a kind of curve to it, and nothing had color. He marveled at how beautiful everything was, even in black and white. He felt a protectiveness creep into his heart with more passion and desire than anything he had ever felt before. Suddenly confident in his claim on this forest, he knew he could, and would, kill to protect it. But at the same time that protective feeling was grounded in love, for the freedom for each kind of life just to live here. To love here in safety. It was a sense of belonging that Brandon didn’t even feel when he was in his own room.

His black wet nose crinkled up, sniffing northward, searching for the identity of the new scent. New, yet recognizable, for he smelled of the same fierce scent. Another mammoth cat was in his forest.

Without thinking Brandon ran, following the scent like a mad hound chasing a red tailed fox. This new body knew just how to sprint, and how fast it could. Enormous strength fueled his defensive speed. He seemed to fly rapidly between the trees with the ease of a gliding ghost. The scent was getting stronger. Toward the barren land he ran, north of the beautiful glade where the castle stood. Muskiness stung the air when he slowed, panting for breath. His long red tongue hung low for a moment before he stopped gasping, to listen in absolute silence.

He hid just within the copse of trees, searching the yellowed sand for movement. Brandon’s human mind knew the colors of the world around him, inserting them automatically. It was an odd mix, black and white sight, with the knowledge of the colors they should have been.

At first he could only see the mirage waves of heat hovering over the ground; until, yes, there was the intruder. Walking slowly as if the weight of this entire world, Brandon’s world, rested upon his shoulders, the beast lumbered along.

This tiger was different to the one Brandon was. He could tell by the glimmer of the darker black of its stripes. It would be orange in his waking world. Brandon’s stripes would be brown marking him as the white tiger he remembered.

This intrusive tiger was walking eastward, right in the direction of the castle. It was Brandon’s special castle, where he’d met the old wizard and healed his spirit dragon.

Brandon’s animalistic instinct kicked in with a jolt and he began to run towards the other tiger. Bits of burning golden sand flew from his paws as he bounded for the unconcerned beast, just now entering the forest, momentarily shielding him from the great white tiger’s attack.

When Brandon reached the edge of the woods, the tiger was gone. He knew he had entered the forest here, but not even the orange tiger’s scent gave away his whereabouts. Brandon was flustered, not knowing where to look without the scent to guide him. His huge paws padded the earth when he paced the trail.

Where had that tiger gone? Where was it going? Who was it?

The more his thoughts raced, the more he panted and paced. Finally having had enough of indecision he started down the trail. He sense a great rushing, followed by a slam in front of his face. Clashing and clamoring blasted through his ears and he felt the hard sting of metal slam against the sides of his body.

What had just happened?

His looked around, searching wildly. Brandon felt the urge to run, to pounce, to fight, as the bars of a cage trapped him and three men leapt out onto the trail.

“We got it! We got it!” one of them yelled.

Another man bounded around the cage in a victory dance.

Brandon growled and stalked in the little space, scanning the metal bars for escape. His nerves were singing. He didn’t know what to do. Rage was building within him.

He didn’t recognize any of the men and wondered what these men could be doing in his world. Brandon remembered vividly the conversation he’d had with Mr. Crane when he’d freed his Spirit Dragon, about how this was His world.

He could decide what happened in it by the choices he made in his waking world. He hadn’t been aware that something like this could happen. He didn’t know other people could even be in His world.

Now he was frightened and angry, and worried about what would happen next. The men gathered around the cage staring at him, hooting and hollering like they’d accomplished some great feat.

They hauled the cage further down the trail using long thick ropes. They dared not get close to the enraged tiger trapped inside. Brandon could smell their hot breath as they heaved and pulled. All he could do was roar his frustration. He couldn’t get at any of them for the cage was made of a thick wire and held him firm. Sweat dripped from one man whose sloppy hair framed his face like a bowl. The glint in the man’s eyes sparked fear in Brandon’s heart. What were they going to do with him?

Not so far off from where the men left the cage to sit Brandon could see the orange tiger walking slowly through the field, seeming without a care in the world. Seeing the tiger walking like that sent a new ripple of rage through his veins.

Brandon continued to pace the cage as the men grabbed rifles, laughing with excitement. “There’s the other one!”

Another yelled, “C’mon we have ta go! Hurry!”

The men took off running in the direction of the orange tiger which had disappeared from view once again. He now felt concern for the intruder he’d plotted to attack himself.

Brandon watched them run off and was startled again when that little lighthearted chirp disturbed his concentration. “Well look at the pickle you’ve gotten yourself into now Master Brandon!”

Mr. Crane was standing on those thin little legs next to the cage, preening himself to a shine. His little head shook as he ruffled his feathers back and forth.

Irritated, Brandon growled, “Can’t you get me out of here, Mr. Crane? What the heck is going on?”

Mr. Crane ruffled and sorted his little silver feathers as he answered, “Well there’s only so much I can do for you Master Brandon. How exactly would you suggest I get this contraption open for you? Besides, your anger is burning like a barn full of hay, I’d be afraid of what you might do if I even could let you out!”

“What are you talking about? Of course I’m angry! Look at me!” Brandon wanted to scream with frustration, but when he tried it came out as a deafening roar.

Something was nagging in the back of his mind. What had he forgotten? With what little room he had within the trap he roamed back and forth, unable to sit, unable to find a hollow in the wire, unable to do much of anything but pace, and feel.

“Indeed Master, indeed, look at yourself! You are nearly fuming with rage! Since when has that helped anything? You are locked, completely and utterly, within this cage. The men caught you fair and square.”

“Fair and square? Fair and square?” Brandon screamed inside his head. “This is my world! People can’t catch me! This is my forest and I rule here!”

Brandon’s roar made the trees in the forest shiver with anticipation.

Mr. Crane looked at him thoughtfully for several minutes. It was obvious there wasn’t to be any talking let alone reasoning with the Master whilst he was in this state.

“I’ll return Master Brandon. Let me see what I can discover for you, and then I’ll be back.” Mr. Crane spread his wings before Brandon could respond, and flew off in the same direction the men with riffles had gone.

Brandon couldn’t even fathom what Mr. Crane was thinking. First he leaves him here to rot in this stinking cage, and then he takes off right after where the men with the guns have gone.

He keeps picturing the rifles in their grimy hands. A gun like that could do a lot of damage. It would probably kill a White Tiger like himself in a heartbeat.

Imagining what a gun like that could do to a little bird stopped his heart cold. Brandon realized what his friend had gone to do and suddenly worried desperately about his safety.

What would those men do to Mr. Crane? What are those men doing right now? What are they going to do with me?

Worry, frustration, and sheer desperate fear coursed through Brandon’s blood. He wanted to cry and scream, but most of all he wanted out! He couldn’t handle this helplessness.

He wasn’t accustomed to not being able to do exactly as he pleased. He had to try something, anything to get out! Brandon searched the cage for possible weak points. He knew the cage was made from wire, and that it was strong, but he couldn’t discern if any spots were weaker than others. It seemed pretty solid.

He arranged his body against one of the sides and began pushing with all his might. The wires bit into his skin with sharp stings, but Brandon wasn’t about to stop. He tried and tried, pressing his weight against the side of the cage, testing the construction until he began to bleed, but the cage didn't budge. It didn’t bend, it didn’t bow outward, and it didn’t even lift off the ground with all his weight to one side.

Exhausted, Brandon flopped down, his head thudding the floor. Soft blades of grass tickled his face, reminding him of the freedom of running through the meadows. The crisp clean fragrance of the grass filled him with comfort, like his mother’s famous chocolate chip cookies did after a bad day at school. There wasn’t anything like his mother’s hot chewy cookies late in the day. Brandon’s breathing slowed considerably as he pictured a plate full of those steaming gooey cookies, a large glass of creamy milk beside them just waiting for a good dunking.

A huge pink tongue swathed across the tiger’s face, looking very much like a little boy catching the drool from his lips before it could touch his glorious dessert.

Very soon the great beast trapped in a cage was asleep.

****

Mr. Glasheen, I really appreciate allowing me to insert the first three chapters of the book inside your forum. Obviously it is a young reader/adult story, in print as well as digital. On smashwords it is on sale for 99 cents.

When I started teaching, even before, when I realized that karate well and truly saved my life, completely, my mind, body as well as my spirit... It became near to an obsession to be able to help others as well. I continue to learn and grow in my practice. It is part of the reason why it took so long to get this second book out. The first was published in 2002. The karate, the journey through rage and what to do about it are very real. The answers had to really work, and I had a lot of anger to work through.

Part of it is about dealing with rivals and bullies and the sure terror and rage that can stem from that helpless feeling. But another part of it came from something I had no idea would happen. Through learning karate, there was a time when I became more angry. More aggressive. It was a by product of ego that I needed to work through in order to find the balance and peace to write the final story. So in this story I wanted to entertain, but give real possible answers. By showing how the main character gets through it all, I hoped that other karateka, and non p[practitioners, could have something to try. A way out so to speak.

People get angry for all kinds of reasons. Some are surprising, some are classic. But very few know what to do once they are angry, or feeling the surge of ego when they realize "oo hey.. I can protect myself, nothing can touch me" which is really false. Things can touch you and throw you off balance. Balance is covered in the third book, written but not edited yet.

I hope these chapters spark an interest, especially for karateka. There is a lot of Uechi in this story, this series. So practitioners could really enjoy reading about their own style. Kids can be entertained, as well as learn.

Which was one of the biggest reasons for me to write. To help others, as well as myself.

Revised Edition of the first book in this series... The Spirit Dragon... coming very quickly now. Brandon is dealing with being over weight and serious bullies in school when three special friends reach out to him within his dreams guiding him to Uechi-Ryu karate.... Minding the Tiger, which I have posted a few chapters of is the second in the series... And the third is being edited- (yes lol) and will be done by the end of the summer-

A series for children- dealing with bullies and all the things that come with being bullied, good and bad, with Uechi-Ryu karate as the answer and how it helps within as well as without- will be complete and out there.

I do believe it will be a first. I hope the Uechi- community will check them out. there is a very big opportunity that I am waiting for the final word on. It has passed one step, so far, to getting included as books to be worked on and read in the local schools here. Still waiting to hear if it has passed the next step- but the books have gotten great reviews so far.

Here is the new image which will be used for the cover of the REVISED EDITED edition of The Spirit Dragon.

I have just received word that the first two books, The Spirit Dragon and Minding the Tiger will be taken in to the middle school to see if the teachers can work it in. Two steps in and it is going really well. I am already aware of one English teacher who wants to participate and let the kids read in class not just for the entertainment value and the help one can find inside the story dealing with bullies; but for learning how to write creatively.

This is truly awesome! Uechi is going to be inside our schools, here, and maybe others if it has a positive affect there.

The Spirit Dragon is just about finished being edited, it has a new cover, which you can see above. My goal is to have the third installment edited and ready to go with the up coming school year so the series is complete.

Once the Spirit Dragon gets re released, I would like to offer one of each of these books to any dojo that might be interested. Please contact me at krymrgn@gmail.com with snail mail address if you might be interested in having these stories available for your students, of all ages. (at no cost - for one of each though a donation for shipping wouldn't be turned down but isn't necessary.) I will extend that to the third when it is ready as well.